


Similarities

by FlorentineQuill



Category: Cinderella (2015), Maleficent (2014)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Post-Movie(s), technically future fic for maleficent, whoops my hand slipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:53:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella escapes her wedding festivities, only to run into some very old, very distinguished guests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Similarities

Cinderella resisted the urge to grab a pile of plates or platters on her way out of the bustling ballroom. Her ostentatious wedding dress had been abandoned for something a little more comfortable, and colorful. There were still several layers of petticoats and tulle, but the corset was not nearly as tight, and the topmost layer was in a comforting shade of blue. Kit had taken one look at her face, pale underneath whatever makeup had been carefully applied, and suggested that she take a few minutes to herself. 

“I keep forgetting that you’re new to this,” he said, pressing an apologetic kiss to her hands. “It took me years before I could get through formal balls without having to be escorted out by my nursemaids before I had a most un-princely tantrum, or naps.” He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “Go, I’ll hold off the gossiping hordes.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, returning the kiss. “I won’t be long.”

The library was well within walking distance, but Ella stepped out of her shoes. “Best hold on tight to those, your Highness,” the nearby guard warned with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to have find you all over again, now would we?”

She grinned back at him, gathering her skirts up in one hand. “Of course not,” she replied, and darted off down the halls. The cold marble felt marvelous against her sore feet, and she reached the library in short order, hardly even out of breath. She smoothed her skirts back down, wincing as the soft fabric caught at her work-roughened hands. There was a hand cream she was using, but it still took time to wear calluses into submission. 

The library was one of her favorite rooms in her new home. It reminded her of her father’s study, rich with the smells of leather and paper and ink. The setting sun shone through broad, arranged windows, bathing everything in shades of gold and peach. It wasn’t until she closed the door that she caught the flicker of movement above her, on the second story. She froze. In trying to get away from the press of high ranking nobles, she had stumbled upon two of the most honored guests in the palace. 

Magic was rare, the stuff of stories in her home. Other lands though…She stared up at the fae who watched her silently. The man seemed human enough, barring the twisted scars by his eyes and neck, and the necklace of feather and crystal he wore. The woman on the other hand— Oh, she was magic made real. Graceful horns curled up into the air, and her hair was tucked behind pointed ears, to say nothing of the massive wings that stretched towards the ceiling, neatly folded on the woman’s back.

It seemed Lord Ambassador Diaval and Lady Protector Maleficent of the Moors had also felt the need to escape the festivities. 

“I beg your pardon,” Ella managed after a moment. “I did not mean to intrude. I didn’t think anyone else would be in here.” Her voice seemed over-loud in the silent library and she felt for the doorknob behind her.

Lord Diaval immediately swept into a low, formal bow. “We can hardly monopolize your entire library, you Highness,” he called. He leaned forward over the balcony railing, close to toppling over, but Lady Maleficent gripped the back of his shirt.

“Don’t even think about it, idiot raven,” she said. “She does not deserve the fright.” She considered Cinderella for a moment while Lord Diaval sighed. He tugged his shirt straight, and offered his arm to Lady Maleficent. She accepted it, and they headed for the stairs.

Cinderella watched them descend the winding spiral staircase carved into a particular thick pillar. Lady Maleficent’s wings caught the sunlight, turning a fiery shade of brown. They were both over two hundred years old, at least, but barely looked a day over forty, with barely any silver in their hair. The only sound in the library were their footsteps on the stone, and even that was muffled by the shushing of Maleficent’s wings. They trailed behind her, a finer cloak than anything Cinderella could ever imagine owning, even as queen. 

Belatedly, Cinderella detached herself from the door, moving forward to meet them. Lord Diaval offered her another, shallower bow, while Lady Maleficent dipped a small curtsey. Cinderella returned the curtsey, grateful for wide skirts that hid wobbling knees. “May I join you, my lord, my lady?” she asked, and Lord Diaval smiled. There was a flicker of…something, too fast for her to identify in Lady Maleficent’s expression, and she held her breath. Madame’s more mercurial moods had been heralded by something similar, and rarely boded well for her. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked, dread curling in her stomach.

Lady Maleficent’s wings shifted, and she shook her head with an odd smile. “I have three titles that I care about,” she replied. “I’ve spent the better part of my life avoiding more, much to the dismay of friends and family. Diaval, on the other hand, has spent the better part of his life collecting ridiculous titles, and teasing me about my distaste for them.”

Cinderella breathed again, shoulders losing their wire-tight tension. “I see,” she said. “What would you prefer to be called then?”

“My name has served me well enough these past centuries,” Maleficent replied. “And despite his manners and said collection, Diaval rarely stands on ceremony.”

“You wound me, Mistress,” he said, eyes wide, but his voice was fond.

“If I meant to wound you, Diaval, you’d know it,” she replied, lifting an eyebrow. 

Cinderella bit her lip, smiling. If she and Kit were half as suited to each other as the two before her, they would have a long and happy marriage indeed. 

Lightning fast, Diaval’s attention returned to her. “A smile at last!” he said, and sobered. “Its very overwhelming, isn’t it?” he asked. His eyes were very kind, and Cinderella looked down at the floor.

“It’s…difficult, at times,” she admitted, fingering the small signet ring she wore as queen-to-be. “Oh, there are tutors, and I want to learn, but there is so much to learn, you see.”

They nodded. Maleficent tilted her head to one side. “You remind me of my goddaughter Aurora,” she said. Her smile was more than a little sly. There had been only one Aurora in the Moors’ history. Cinderella’s father had joked that each generation of Moors royalty talked of naming the next princess Aurora, but it had yet to happen.

“Queen Aurora?” Cinderella repeated. “But— She was already queen by my age, and she saw the Moors rebuilt and united! With Lord Diaval’s help,” she added, dipping another curtsey in his direction.

“She was crowned twice,” Diaval said. “And it took her two years of constant lessoning to prepare for her first coronation. Technically, the need for a treaty delayed her second coronation more, but she also needed to learn how to deal with the myriad fae she was to govern. Your stories are more similar than you might think.” Another smile. “There were far more impromptu trips to the Ancient Moors than history likes to admit. She so desperately wanted to do right by all her subjects, human and fae alike.”

“At least she learned to take her bodyguards with her,” Maleficent muttered. “Eventually.”

Cinderella took a step forward. “Did she— Was it hard? At first?” she asked. “Her lessons?” Because she was a fast learner, but every so often her tutors would exchange disappointed looks, and talk about trying again at a later date. And Cinderella wanted to curl up in shame every time they did, trying to ignore the small part of her that whispered in Madame’s voice that she should still be in the servants’ quarters, where she belonged. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Maleficent replied. “I was not as welcome in court as I am now. Diaval?”

Diaval lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She didn’t complain often but…yes. She went from being a cheerful, peasant girl who wanted to live in the Moors to a princess of a badly damaged kingdom, and queen-in-waiting to the fae.” He blew out a breath. “It was quite the adjustment for her. But she managed, and was beloved by all her subjects.” He gave her a winning smile. “As I’m sure you will be, your Highness. It just takes a little time, and practice.”

Someone knocked on the door, making Cinderella jump. “Enter!” she called, and Captain Allan opened the door. 

“My apologies— Oh, I did not realize you had company, you Highness.” He bowed to Diaval and Maleficent, who nodded in return. “I’m afraid it’s time to return to the ballroom,” he told Cinderella. “Would my lord and lady care to accompany us?” he asked the fae.

Maleficent’s wings twitched. “We had better,” she said. “Besides, there’s someone I’ve been meaning to speak to. She should be fluttering about somewhere nearby… Diaval?” She glanced at Diaval, who smoothed back his hair with one hand.

“I had best do some mingling of my own, so that the various courts don’t forget my beautiful self,” he said, smiling. “Lead the way, Captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many headcanons for these films, and how they can crossover. And some purely Cinderella ideas, but I'll edge into those. 
> 
> Aurora passed away about 150 years ago, at the age of 98. Maleficent is 264 now, and Diaval is 247. I haven't decided whether the Moorland fae have defined lifespans or if they keep going unless killed but they're still both pretty active. Aurora's combined kingdoms became known as the Moors, with the original Moors becoming the Ancient Moors.


End file.
